


Hot Soup For My Beloved!

by xxxbookaholic



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Despair Disease (Dangan Ronpa), Established Relationship, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Saihara Shuichi, Other, Sickfic, they use they/them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29998332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxbookaholic/pseuds/xxxbookaholic
Summary: When the Despair Disease outbreak first began, Kokichi didn’t take a single ounce of it seriously. How could he, when the concept was just so damn ridiculous?Or at least, it was ridiculous until his very own partner got it – after that, it was as if somebody had let a horse loose in a hospital.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Momota Kaito (mentioned), Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62
Collections: Saiouma Pit White Day 2021 Collection: Day 2: Despair Disease AND/OR In-Game





	Hot Soup For My Beloved!

When the Despair Disease outbreak first began, Kokichi didn’t take a single ounce of it seriously. How could he, when the concept was just so damn  _ ridiculous _ ? He was a Supreme Leader; facts were the most important thing to him – there was no time for silly rumors and childish fairy tales. (Unless you’re talking about smashing a chocolate pie into somebody’s face –  _ that’s _ a totally different story!)

Or at least, it  _ was _ ridiculous until his very own partner got it – after that, it was as if somebody had let a horse loose in a hospital.

It all started when they were at the grocery store; one second they were debating on what type of orange is best, and the next Shuichi was spitting out that bananas were actually purple, but only ghostbusters like themself could see it. At the time, Kokichi thought it was a prank – a harmless joke, at most. Pretty soon, however, he came to realize that it was  _ not _ , in fact, a flopped attempt at mimicking Kokichi’s humor.

Now, Shuichi wasn’t uptight – if they were, the two of them wouldn’t have been dating for as long as they had, if at all. But one thing they weren’t, however, is the kind of person to drag on a joke until it was stale.  _ That _ was how Kokichi got to where he was now, attempting to tuck his fussing partner into bed with a soup bowl in one hand and hot tea in the other.

_ At least this is something I’m used to,  _ Kokichi mused as he slammed the bowl onto their bedside table and ripped the blankets from Shuichi’s hands himself, pulling them up as firmly as possible. One thing Kokichi knew his partner definitely  _ was _ , however, was a workaholic, so having to use brute force to get Shuichi to rest was nothing new.

Still, that didn’t make the endless lies and eccentricities spouting out of their mouth any easier to deal with. “I’m an astronaut,” they were trying to argue, hands pushing at the covers weakly. “I’ve touched the stars and will not hesitate to do it again!”

Their voice was obviously hoarse from the strain, and yet they still didn’t just stop  _ talking _ . “That’s very impressive, Shumai,” Kokichi said carefully, prying Shuichi’s hands off the blankets why they were otherwise occupied with talking.  _ Is this what it feels like to deal with me?  _ he couldn’t help but wonder, pressing a hand against Shuichi’s chest to push them down.

“I won a derby contest, once, too,” they continued, hands moving around wildly. “My horse was named Kaede. She’s dead now!”  _ That _ one seemed to cause Shuichi actual pain to say, judging by the way they winced – although their cheerful tone of voice was all the same.

Kokichi hummed along, sitting down on the bed beside them and turning to check their forehead.  _ Just as hot as before,  _ he noted, finally pulling away to grab the bowl of soup. “Is that so?” he asked, glancing over. On any other occasion, he’d probably take advantage of this situation, poking fun and asking Shuichi all sorts of wild, out-of-this-world questions. Today, though, he just really wasn’t feeling like joking around; maybe it was the pain in Shuichi’s eyes, or the sweat on their forehead, but something about the situation really threw Kokichi off.

This was a side of Shuichi he’d never seen before – where the detective was usually intelligent and specific about the things they said and did, they were now completely out of control – and very obviously uncomfortable with it, at that. Now, Kokichi wasn’t the sharpest tool in Maki’s shed of unidentifiable, possibly dangerous weapons, but one thing he knew for sure was this; he never wanted to see Shuichi this sickly again.

“Hey, Saihara-chan,” he sang, catching some of the broth in his spoon and moving it to touch his partner’s lips. “Open wide!”

Shuichi stared at him blankly for just a second, eyebrows pinched and bottom lip twitching like they were unsure if he wanted to cry or cackle. A few seconds passed, and then they finally opened their mouth just a little – probably to spit out another preposterous lie – but before they could speak, Kokichi shoved the spoon into their mouth, tipping their head back awkwardly.

They blubbered around for a moment, hands opening and closing like a dried out fish, and then they finally gave up, allowing Kokichi to spoon feed them rather than fighting.  _ Success,  _ he smiled back at Shuichi’s exhausted expression, scooping up another spoonful of soup. “You know,” he began, raising it back to his partner and allowing them to take a sip, “if you had just stayed home from that party stinky Momota-chan forced you to go to, this probably would have never happened.”

That was the unfortunate, quite obvious key – the exact day all this nonsense with Shuichi began, Kokichi got a call from none other than Kaede herself. (The pianist, not the dead derby horse.) She’d sounded more rushed than usual, stumbling over her words and breaking off sentences to yell strange things like, “ _ No, don’t touch the chandelier!”  _ and, “ _ What did I tell you about eating peanut butter straight from the container?”  _ To be honest, about half of that whole exchange was completely unintelligible.

One thing from it was blatantly clear, though; Kaito had contracted an illness and, in addition, it was the exact same kind of illness Shuichi developed. Judging by that, there was only one answer to the problem – Rantaro’s godforsaken house party.

_ Damn you, Amami,  _ he cursed silently, finally sticking the spoon back into the bowl and placing it on their dresser.  _ If it weren’t for you and your dumbass mansion, none of this would have happened.  _ It was irrational to blame him, he knew it was, and if Shuichi was even just semi-conscience, they would have surely given the Supreme Leader a lecture, but  _ come on _ ! What else was he supposed to think? His beloved detective was sick in bed and it was definitely that adventurer’s fault.

_ I’ll need to give him a piece of my mind soon,  _ he decided, turning over to draw circles onto Shuichi’s wrist. “Are you feeling better now, Shumai?” It wasn’t as if he was expecting an honest response – far from it, actually – but he thought he’d ask regardless, even if just to get their mind off of what was probably really painful to go through.

“My favorite food is shumai,” he wheezed instead of an answer, blinking hard.  _ That one is an obvious lie,  _ Kokichi knew – if it weren’t for the way Shuichi reached out and gripped the edge of his shirt, the Supreme Leader would probably laugh.

Instead of arguing, he decided to simply agree, far too worried to say much more than, “I’m sure it is.” Kokichi paused for a moment and then asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

Shuichi shivered once, twice, and then shook their head furiously. “No, I don’t! I want you gone,” they coughed out, sounding weaker than ever before. Kokichi thought it over for a moment, mouth turning down into a frown, and then he leaned over to press a kiss to his partner’s burning forehead, eyes fluttering shut.

“I love you too,” he said, pulling away and placing one hand on each of Shuichi’s cheeks. There were a lot of things he wanted in that moment; he wanted to run as a final attempt to escape the virus, he wanted to cuddle up next to his partner and stay there until he healed, he wanted to smile down at him and promise that everything will be alright.

But amidst all those thoughts, only one wish remained prominent in his mind – for his partner to get better. Prank-pulling could come after, when the whole thing was blown over and neither of them were at risk of any kind of potential life-changing illness. For now, he’d do his best to cure his beloved. (Even if that meant actually getting off his ass and burning cooking a disgusting pot of soup.)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic, despite how short it is! It was written for the Saiou Pit White Day Event, Prompt 2. I chose despair disease! (obviously) 
> 
> Big thank you to my wife, who beta read this and also yelled at me about getting off my ass and writing. Check her out at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/forestfairyayase !!
> 
> You can look up my tumblr at xxxbookaholic, if you're interested! I mostly post A3! Actors and Danganronpa.


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